My Trip to Rivendell Part 3
by Arabella Thorne
Summary: Working on rubbing those rough edges of Fingalan's smooth. Did some gardening and archery...and finally the mysterious Garnellin speaks, and I get an EARFUL. Dinner in the main dining hall, then decide to join the kids who forgo the Hall of Fire and go bo


Fingalan and I stood by one of the larger flowerbeds near the Bruinen, about a half mile from the House. I was wearing a tunic and pants again, thankfully. Fingalan's knock on the head hadn't made him any worse for wear (as mine hadn't.gee isn't swell having Elrond around?) and when I asked him again what he thought had happened, he still had no idea. Bringing my thoughts back to the head gardener, Kasrillath, I watched as he demonstrated how we were to place the seedlings and make little wells around them to catch water. In a few months, the garden would be a riot of color and fragrance, as this particular bed was part of a perfume garden: Flowers grown just to fill the air with scent. It sounded lovely and I wondered if indeed, I would be here to see it in full bloom. Sighing, I thought not, but got to work. Watching Fingalan, I could see he was back in sullen mode as he was frowning while he desultorily dug little holes and sort of mashed the plants into place. Kasrillath tried a few times to correct him, but I finally put a hand on the gardener's arm and shook my head. I didn't have to say anything. Rolling his eyes, the elf strolled away to work in another part of the bed. I decided I would correct the more blatant mistakes.  
  
  
  
I worked for sometime in silence. I actually like gardening and doing something repetitious like this was pleasant, and gave me time to think about our little intrigue from yesterday. What was going on? Why would someone attack Fingalan and Garnellin? Some one here not like the elves from Mirkwood? Were they jealous for some reason? I just had a hard time imagining some elf being dastardly enough to do these things. I always thought elves were pretty much perfect beings, the embodiment of all that is glorious and beautiful here in Middle Earth. In tune with nature and the world around them, they were indeed the Blessed of this land. How could one of them be, well, creepy like this? Then I sat back on my heels and laughed to myself. Didn't I, just the other day, call Fingalan, (by all standards, a lovely-looking elf), a jerk!? Elves were hardly passionless. And passion can make you do some pretty nasty things if given an outlet. I shot a glance at Fingalan, he was still plugging away with his seedlings. And really, not doing a very good job. I looked the other way and saw the head gardener watching in dismay. Shaking my head, I went up to Fingalan and stopped his hand from crushing another plant. "All right sport. Why don't you call it quits for today?" Confusion on his face made it clear to me I had used too much idiom. I started again. "Fingalan, why don't you stop planting and go back to the House? Perhaps Lord Elrond can find something else for you to do besides mangling plants and giving the poor gardener fits." "Lord Elrond told me this is where I needed to be." He said stabbing a defenseless plant into the soil. "I am to do planting today, like some common, grubbing farmer, and it is---" I interrupted his petulant bellyaching and shook my head. "I do not think Lord Elrond or the gardener want a half-dead display of plants. Go on, I'll finish up here. I don't mind the dirt." "Of course not! Human!" He flung at me churlishly as he left. So we were back to being just a "human" again. Sigh. Anyway, I figured this one was Elrond's problem. But I did wonder what had changed from one day to the next. We had been getting along fairly well yesterday as we hiked and I certainly wasn't the one who had bashed him on the head...unless he really thought I'd left the crevasse and snuck up on him? Wait, whoa, how could I? I was a...human. And certainly not capable of ambushing an elf. I just couldn't figure his thinking out. I felt productive and slightly sunburned from the planting. And the gardener was pleased with my work. I know, he told me in Elvish and I bobbed my head politely as if I understood. (Well, I could kind of get the gist of it.) ANYWAY, by mid-afternoon, I had finished. And boy, did I have a lot of dirt under my nails from "grubbing." But I felt it was a job well done and I went back to the House singing an old musical number that had popped into my head. As I strolled down the corridor towards my room, looking forward to a good wash up and a snack, I saw Garnellin ahead of me. Surprised I stopped and looked at him. Shrugging, I plowed on in old Dwarvish. "What can I do for you Garnellin?"  
  
  
  
He smiled slightly and indicated the arches of my room with a sweep of his hand. Nodding, I went ahead of him and kept going towards the bathroom where I spent a few minutes washing up. Garnellin remained silent, watching me. When I had gotten as much dirt off as I thought I could without sandblasting, I went out and sat on the edge of the fountain and patted the slightly mossy stone next to me. I couldn't imagine what he had to say to me. He joined me and sat looking at me a moment. And I returned his steady gaze. It was easy to tell he was older than Fingalan. His eyes were steadier and he looked well, less anxious. And for once, friendly. "I am not sure why you want to talk to me, since you don't speak old Dwarvish." "I speak it fine mistress." He looked down with that declaration for which I was grateful because it gave me a moment to find my gaping jaw and shut it. "But Lord Elrond said." "As I asked him to do." His eyes returned to mine. "Fingalan is not all he seems." I said dryly, "And, I gather, you're not either." He smiled slightly. Continuing, I said improvising, "Let me see if I have this right: Fingalan is some misplaced princeling hiding from the evil wizard.well wait, bad choice of words.the evil duke who wants his kingdom for himself. And, and, I know! His sister is being held hostage and he needs to gather some trusty elves together and storm da castle..No wait, Prince Legolas is Thranduil's heir. Never mind." I looked at my companion and shook my head, "Oh please." Garnellin listened to my recitation, eyebrows raised. He actually smiled! "What an imagination Mistress Marie! You should come tell stories in the Hall of Fire!" He looked around the small garden. "Do you suppose we might find somewhere more private? It wouldn't help if Fingalan came looking for you, or me, for that matter." "I rather doubt he'll come looking for me. He was back to being sullen today and called me "human!" again." Garnellin actually winced. "I am sorry about that. But you, believe it or not, are the only friend he has here." "'Friend" is a pretty strong word for his dealings with me. And I, a mere human? I think not sir! He said he and his friends wanted me to come to the Hall of Fire and tell tales, that morning I met you both!"" Garnellin looked at me steadily again, his expression neutral. "He, as you may have noticed, is a bit on the boastful side. He has a rather vivid imagination as well. The elves in the Hall of Fire were just chance companions, younger elves looking for something a bit more out of the ordinary than a new saga of Beren and Luthien. You, however, are about the only one he talks to, other than myself." I got up and indicated the arches, " Well lead on then. I am all ears...well as much as I can be compared to an elf's." He threw me a puzzled expression.  
  
  
  
I let him take the lead, because I had no idea where one might go here for privacy. Public rooms were public no doubt and private rooms were private, I wasn't sure what other choice there was. We walked for a while wrapped in silence. Because it was a lovely afternoon, I didn't mind the stroll. As a matter of fact, we were going into an area of the House I hadn't been near, high up the mountainside, following a series of rushing falls on our right side and climbing many stairs.   
  
  
We reached a terrace that overlooked a pool from which the waterfall began. Garnellin indicated a bench with a lovely view of the still water, in which a pair of swans floated, a string of cygnets behind them. The wind ruffled our hair, and I kept brushing strands out of my face as I waited for him to begin. "Well your farfetched story is not as fantastic as you may imagine, Mistress Marie. Fingalan is not a prince, you are correct about Prince Legolas, but he is a crucial member of the royal family. He is cousin to our prince and his father is indeed, First Counselor to King Thranduil. Which, in the course of events, will make him someday, First Counselor to King Legolas. Granted that may be many, many years off. But being complacent about how history should unfold, and what actually happens has been shown time and time again to be a fatal mistake." I immediately thought about the upcoming War of the Ring and my eyes dropped to the flagstone pavement. A lot of things would change and I would guess, it would be a moot point about Fingalan's succeeding to the position of First Counselor.but I couldn't remember what exactly happened to all the elves of Mirkwood. I knew about Rivendell, but my mind raised a blank about the fate of Mirkwood.." "At court, Fingalan has proven to be disruptive and disdainful of court procedures. He will not listen to his father or the King, " "Nor you, I imagine. Excuse me for interrupting, but just what is your position in all this?"   
  
  
"I am, well, you might say a counselor-at-large for the King." "Ah, a spy! Does Lord Elrond know this? I thought there was, well some kind of enmity between the two, ah kingdoms. And a spy right under Lord Elrond's very elegant nose, could not be seen as the most tactful or diplomatic of situations if revealed." He laughed, shaking his head, his thick braid of sandy-brown hair flopping over a shoulder. "Lord Elrond has been apprised of my situation. As a matter of fact, we are trying to mend some fences here by having Fingalan come to Imladris for refinement." His eyes dropped to the flagstones beneath our feet. "Of course, if all this does not work, why then, the fences just might not be mended." "And Mirkwood and Imladris will be like too old stiff-backed lady neighbors who won't talk to each other over perceived slights 20 years old. Of course in your case, they are probably centuries old." Twinkling eyes crinkled up at mine. "Yes. Enmity is destructive when a united front is needed. As it maybe down the road." "Yes, indeed." I thought of Sauron's rise again. I stood, and stretched and turned to face the elf, who had braced his hands on either side of himself on the bench and watched me with half-lidded concentration.  
  
"Okay, what I want to know now, is who attacked you and Fingalan then? Is someone here not happy about this "fence mending?" Garnellin stood with that and strolled back along the edge of the pond, bent and picked up some pebbles and skimmed them across the water's still surface. The swans had sailed away out of sight. "Actually Mistress Marie--- "Just call me Marie." "Marie then. I am not sure what happened. I was looking for the two of you actually, as Lord Elrond had asked me to keep an eye on you both especially yourself, to avoid any further accidents." "Yes, yes, he warned me yesterday morning. I only got a bump on the head yesterday, so no---" "Mild concussion." I looked skyward at that and blew out my breath, "Okay, so well, mild concussion! That explains Lord Elrond's behavior last night. I can't believe how accident-prone I've been here! I am not this way where I come from. Anyway, I did kill a ravening wolf!" "Yes. Quite impressive! I have not managed such a feat! As for being accident prone, well, you just need to learn to be more aware of what you are doing and---" "Please spare me the lecture sir! I know you are probably old enough to be my grandfather many times removed, but in my world I am a responsible adult!" He fell silent, glancing at me sideways with a smile. I smiled back. I took a deep breath and stretched again. I was grateful he left that last line lay.   
  
"So, we have a bit of a mystery here. We need to discover who hit both of you on the head, and why." "Exactly. Except for the "we" part, Marie. Lord Elrond will not be happy, and I AM trying to keep him happy, if you get involved and receive any more injuries." I took him by the arm and led him back towards the stairs we had come up. "And so you shall." I gave his arm a bit of a squeeze. "It would certainly be easier don't you think, if I was WITH you in your investigation, versus, well, being out on my own, searching out clues by myself, wandering about unattended. Unless I am still to be with Fingalan?" "As far as I know. I am not sure what the Lord of Imladris has planned for you tomorrow, though." "Let see: gone riding and attacked by ivy; sheep wrangling, wolf-killing, gardening." I slapped myself on the forehead in mock consternation. "Oh my goodness, that leaves only...the dishes!" Garnellin laughed loud and long as we descended from our eyrie. Well, he was certainly turning into a more entertaining companion than Fingalan the Sullen. Sighing with a sudden thought, I halted and he stopped and looked at me in question. "I just bet we have to go back to being outwardly wary of each other, don't we? Fingalan is not to know you speak old Dwarvish, and this conversation never happened. Right?" Garnellin nodded, his expression steady. "Lord, I HATE teenagers!"   
  
His mouth quirked at that and we remained silent as we continued down to the more populated portions of the House, all the while keeping an eagle eye out for the erstwhile Fingalan. When we reached what I would call one of the main corridors, one which swept along most of the western edge of the House, he bowed slightly and left. I wandered off back to my room, my head full of things to ponder.   
  
  
Startled, as I turned a corner, I ran into Fingalan. Thankful Garnellin was absent, I smiled and said, "Well, what have you been doing with yourself?" His green eyes blazed and then he turned to stalk to a waterfall nearby whose misty spray was refreshing. I joined him at the balustrade. I briefly touched him on the shoulder, which he rolled away from me, but did not move any further. Staring at the water, he wrinkled his nose. "I have been helping Lord Elrond organize his medical cabinet." He looked at me sideways with upraised eyebrows. "His supplies have seen a lot of use lately and many things needed replacing." I rolled my eyes in return. "Well, I suspect he needs to do that every once and awhile. Herbs loose their potency after time." "Yes, of course." He (all together now) smirked at me. We were silent awhile and then a stray thought crossed my mind and I smiled at the smooth stone beneath my hands. "Is Lord Elrond lecturing you about their uses?" "Exactly. And I have no desire to be a healer." "What do you want to do?" He looked at me as if I were stupid. "Be a great warrior, of course. Be the best bowman in the Wood. Kill more Orcs than anyone, and---" I raised a hand. "I get the picture. Though I will say, it would probably be a good thing for a great warrior to know some healing, after all, he's very likely to be on the receiving end of any number of nasty assaults. I mean, isn't Lord Elrond also considered to be as great a warrior as he is a healer?" Fingalan nodded, reluctantly and we were both silent for a moment. Finally I said, "Well, why don't we find the archery range and do a little shooting?" Needless to say, I had never done any archery before but had always been fond of Errol Flynn movies. Archery was on my short list of things I wanted to try here in Rivendell. And I know, I know, this is not a university.   
  
Fingalan brightened up at that and his green eyes sparkled over a wide smile. Boy, he was going to make some lady-elf very happy someday. When he grew up! "A very good idea Marie! Yes, I am in sore need of practice!" I wasn't quite sure how we'd find out where the range was without involving Lord Elrond, who would undoubtedly nix the idea and tell me it would be better to dust the study or some such safe job...ANYWAY. I decided that Master Cerwal would know. Of course he did. And because it was up in a high meadow, he suggested we take horses. Since I felt we'd walked for miles, at least, I had, all over Rivendell today I was happy to ride to the archery range.  
  
And when we got there, both I and Fingalan slumped on our horses. Great idea, except several other elves were practicing too. I assumed Fingalan was a competent archer, but since I had never held a bow, I would have to wait for another time. The Master of the Archers, one Mallafin, smiled as we came up to the small crowd standing around a trestle table of bows and quivers. Fingalan told them what he wanted and was allowed to make a selection from the materials available. I assumed most of the archers there had brought their own weapons and the bows and quivers on the table were for stragglers or last minute archers like ourselves. I looked at their beautiful shapes and ran a hand over a light wood quiver with silver designs embedded in it. Lord, it was just lovely. But I snatched my hand back when the Master Archer indicated I could pick up a bow and I shook my head and indicated Fingalan. Fingalan strode off to get in a line for the targets and I went and sat in the grass, off to the side, my hands wrapped around my knees. All I needed was an apple or something because I had a serious case of the munchies. All right, I admit it. Every time one of those lovely elves picked up a bow and shot an arrow, all I could think about was Legolas. Which reminded me that he was out there in Mirkwood somewhere...hey, I'd have to ask Fingalan about him! Too cool. So, the rest of the afternoon passed very pleasantly, until the shadows lengthened into twilight. I was wrapped in awe again about being here in Rivendell and watching all these lovely elves. Did anyone ever go mad from happiness, I wondered?   
  
Fingalan was a good archer and he and another from the House got into a friendly competition on who could shoot the furthest. Both elves kept setting the target further and further back and I could tell, watching Fingalan, that he was taking this competition more and more seriously as it went along. After all, he was an archer from Mirkwood, kingdom of great archers and had to uphold the honor of his home, I guess. Which naturally spurred the young elf from the House of course, to uphold the honor of Rivendell. A crowd actually gathered and by the tone of their voices, good- natured taunts were being tossed about. I applauded wildly when Fingalan hit the target and actually split the Rivendell archer's arrow. He was doing really well in spite of using unfamiliar weapons. Of course, no one else was applauding and I felt a bit foolish. But I figured Fingalan could use the ego-boost. But now, twilight was almost night and though I knew elves saw well in the dark, I was beginning to think this was going a bit further than friendly competition. The targets were at the end of their range, otherwise they'd be under the pine trees. Someone needed to put a halt to this before someone got snarky. And well, someone did.  
  
  
Whoosh! An arrow flew out from behind me, and it was lit and burning blue and silver! It blazed like a comet as it sailed overhead. I was amazed, as were all the other elves and a cry went up as the arrow zoomed deep into the target range and fell just short of the target. We all turned to look and saw Master Mallafin bring his bow down. The crowd pulled apart into two groups as Mallafin strode through and went up to the two competing archers. The house elf bowed slightly as Fingalan stood gaping out across the field at the long range of Mallafin's arm. The three murmured in Elvish and Mallafin slapped both archers on the shoulders and obviously, by his expression (someone had thankful lit a few torches now) was praising them for their exemplary archery. Of course, it didn't compare to what the Master Archer had done, from way behind them. (But that was why he was a Master Archer) Still, it must have been nice for them to have such a seasoned warrior praise their efforts and in public too. I was real glad I hadn't picked up a bow.  
  
As the crowd wandered away, Fingalan came up to me, eyes shining. "Did you see what Master Mallafin did! I have never seen such a shot!" "It was something all right! Like a meteor!" He gave me a puzzled look, but I shrugged and grabbed him by the arm. "Come along my fair archer. You did really well too, especially when you split the other elf's arrow! You deserve a feast." Well at least some food. I was starving. He nodded and left his bow and quiver with the Master Archer and we went to get our horses who had been having a lazy time of it tethered at the edge of the field. A few of the other elves actually complimented him in passing. I could tell by his smiles. As we got the horses and went down the hill, Fingalan excitedly went through the afternoon's archery practice, and I listened with half an ear, content that he was finally interested in something, and not so sullen. Maybe those edges were being worn off some. A few of the elves ran past, light as deer, calling out to us as we complacently rode our horses. Fingalan went silent a moment and then let out a wordless whoop! and the two of us raced down the hillside after the running elves. Who, of course, since they had a head start on us, were hard to pass up. Breathless and laughing, we clattered into the stable yard and jumped off our horses. Since they hadn't had an all day work out, they were quickly settled for the night and Fingalan and I headed back to the main House. I really needed to find food.  
  
Thinking about food, it took me a moment to notice Fingalan and I had been joined by another elf with dark hair, braided back into a long ponytail, like Garnellin, with large blue eyes and a small mouth. He didn't speak old Dwarvish, so he directed his comments to Fingalan. I was going to walk on, but Fingalan grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back. "I shall translate Marie." "All right. Thank you." They conversed a moment (Elvish is such a, well, sensuous language to listen to!) and then Fingalan said, "This is Rheman, from this House. He complimented me on my archery and has asked if we will be in the Hall of Fire tonight." I shrugged, "Well, what did you say?" "I said yes, if that is all right." "Sure, I haven't been to the Hall of Fire yet, so that would be neat!" "Oh yes, it is very neat. I have never seen it dirty!" I swallowed my laugh and nodded. "Ask your friend if he is going into dinner now. I need to eat. And you must be hungry after all that work." "Yes! We shall all go." How nice! Fingalan has actually made a friend. And I don't mean that sarcastically. Maybe this will lead to other things and he'll find out that making and having friends, being polite, etc. can be rewarding. Little did I know!   
  
  
As you must have noted, I hadn't had dinner in the main dining hall, usually just a tray to my room. So, this was a whole new experience. It wasn't formal, for one, which was a relief (I mean like a meal with several courses and everybody in their finest). We just sat where we could find a place at one of the long tables, about half way down. There was a high table, and as I sat I noticed there were only two places set.  
  
But then the food came in on big platters from which we helped ourselves. Fruit, cooked vegetables, fish (not my favorite, even if Elvish) and chicken and rice were the selections. It was very pleasant sitting there, even though I didn't speak Elvish. Everyone was in a good mood, sometimes a bout of singing would start out at one table and responses would come caroling from others. There must have been a good 150 elves in there. (Be still my heart!). The food smelled wonderful, with a light overlay of the scent of flowers that stood in small bowls throughout.  
  
  
I was just pulling apart my chicken, when I saw Lord Elrond and Aragorn come in and sit at the high table. I wondered idly if I would ever see the infamous Elrohir and Elladan or the lovely Arwen. Both Elrond and Aragorn wore clothing in subdued colors: Elrond, hair unbound, in a flowing dark grey overmantle and grey under robe and Aragon, his hair also loose, in a more silvery-grey sideless surcoat over black. I briefly wondered where Malwen was and decided his leg was still not strong enough to walk about a lot. It must have been a really deep wound. (I found out later, Malwen had also been stabbed in the side. He'd actually lost a lot of blood and that's why his recuperation took as long as it did.) Anyway, they were involved in an engrossing conversation and hardly glanced at the food they ate or the others around them.  
  
When the meal wound down, Elrond and Aragorn, washing their fingers in a finger bowl provided by a hovering elf, paid more attention to the group gathered and even directed comments to them, or were approached by elves who bent over to speak to one or the other. I was sitting next to a lovely auburn haired female elf with grey eyes, who kept glancing at me and smiling. I smiled a bit nervously back, feeling once again an idiot for not being able to speak Elvish. It would be interesting to make friends with a woman here. It would be a whole new perspective on Rivendell. Maybe there was someone here who could take the time to teach me! At least the basics. As the dishes were cleared, I tapped Fingalan, who had spent most of the meal talking to his new friend. "What do we do now? " He turned with a slight frown at my interruption and then his face settled into pleasant lines again. "Hot tea, mead and fruit juice are served now Marie so we can let dinner settle. Then in a little while, those who wish to, go to the Hall of Fire." "Great! I'd like to have some mead! Where is it?" "They will bring a carafe around shortly." Since I had had only a little mead during that one interrupted meal with Elrond, I was looking forward to savoring the vintage this time. And I'm sure Elvish singing and storytelling would go a little better with Elvish wine! In minutes, a silver carafe, slightly beaded with water was set before us. I did the honors, pouring the young lady (okay okay I know shes old) Fingalan, Rheman and myself a goblet. Fabulous. The mead was fabulous. The elves sipped theirs and I, just entranced by the flavor, ended up pouring myself a couple of goblets.  
  
  
Finally, as Lord Elrond and Aragorn rose, so did the others and the whole crowd dispersed to go their various ways, though the bulk of them went to the Hall of Fire, so I, Fingalan, Rheman and the young lady whose name was Dalmara followed. Ah, the Hall of Fire is where I had run in to tell Lord Elrond about the wolf. But now, there were a few tables set up holding carafes of mead and juice and there were more people in the Hall as well, some strolling out on the balcony that faced west. I had finished my goblet as we walked and went over to the tables to get more. Fingalan, Rheman and Dalmara wandered off to join another group of elves, I stood watching them a moment, actually feeling quite mellow and noticed that they all looked to be the same age. And of course determining the age of an elf has probably turned into a time- honored bar game somewhere because, it is obviously hard to do. But, they all just seemed to be about the same age. And of course, that age might be 2400 years old. But they certainly didn't exude the presence and depth that someone like Elrond, or even Aragorn did. I guess, experience is what divides the "youngsters" from their elders.  
  
As I was watching, Lord Elrond came up to me, Aragorn at his side. "And how was your day Marie?" "Notice my lord: No blood, no wounds! And I really like gardening, so it was a pleasant, productive day for me." "Excellent. I am delighted to know my supplies will last a little longer then." "Yes, Fingalan told me you had him help you sort through them." "The lad (I swear, he actually called him that) is no healer." He took a sip of wine, his eyes observing the crowd around us. "No, he wants to be a great warrior and slay orcs. " "Ah, perhaps that is why the two of you went up to the archery range." I winced. Of course he would have known by now. "Yes. He seemed to need the activity I think. He's really quite an accomplished archer my lord." "I heard he out-shot Master Mallafin," Aragorn said. "Oh, no, not quite, Master Mallafin actually out-shot both he and the archer from this House whose name I did not catch. But it was spectatcular archery all around." Finishing my mead, I looked at my two companions. "May I get you anything more?" Aragorn shook his head, bowed slightly to us and wandered off. (I wondered briefly if Arwen was in attendance, but I think I would have seen her if she had been).  
  
Elrond silently offered his goblet. And I went off to the table to wait for a free carafe. As I stood there, I idly watched the elves around me. And I noticed something strange. Well, not really strange, but, well, for lack of a better word, different. The group that Fingalan had joined had gotten bigger and there seemed to be a lot of hilarity coming from them. I even noticed Dalmara standing next to Fingalan and watching him with interested eyes. And no singing or instruments, and no cadences indicating poetry. I thought that's what the Hall was for. I could hear others singing behind me and some instruments tuning up, but Fingalan's group seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings. I took the goblet of mead back to Elrond and said, "What do you suppose is happening over there?" "Where Fingalan is?" Elrond sipped his wine. "Yes. I thought everyone here came just for the liked singing and music." "Of course, but Thelasa's group has not asked for the audience's attention yet. They will settle down when she does." I wasn't convinced. I turned to Elrond and said, "I will be right back." He nodded and strolled off towards the musicians warming up.  
  
I tapped Fingalan on the shoulder, "So what's going on? Are you all planning to sing or something?" He turned to look at me funny. "Oh not tonight. We were planning something else." I perked up at this. Don't get me wrong, Elvish singing makes your heart soar or break, but tonight, and perhaps it was the mead, I didn't really want to sit politely listening to beautiful songs sung in a language I didn't understand. "Okay," I took a big drink of mead, "what are you all going to do?" I started getting wild pictures in my head of them running amok and teepeeing Rivendell. I actually laughed to myself. Fingalan looked at me and I just shook my head. "We are going boating on the Bruinen tonight." "Wow, that sounds fun, even if there is no moon!" "The moon rises late tonight. But we will start up the gorge and by the time we reach the Ford, the moon will light our way." "Can I come with? I have been river boating before." Silent a minute, he shrugged. "Why not!" I rushed back to the drinks table and filled my goblet again and joined them, just as they were discreetly weaving their way through the crowd and headed out the corridor. I swallowed my mead quickly and left the goblet on the seat of a nearby chair. Rude of me I know, but I was swept up by the adventure (and admittedly was a little snookered by now).  
  
As I followed them, I felt like we were sneaking out of the dorm, away from the stern schoolmaster for a midnight lark. I shivered. This was going to be fun! Just as we reached a turning, I could hear the beautiful voice of a female elf raised in song. It was gorgeous and stopped me momentarily. But then, Fingalan came and got me by the arm and we ran down the stairs to the next level. Now I don't run with the best of them to start with, so it was hard to keep up with a fleet bunch of young elves. But they slowed some as we got to the lower levels and had gotten to a walk as we reached the garden levels of the House. I held on to Fingalan because I obviously had no idea where the boathouse was and followed them through the dark, grinning like a fool.   
  
  
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